Tiptoe Through The Tulips
by skylarfabrayic
Summary: "What I became was something this world fears, a normal mind with a dark mind. People always need a reason, a motive. I don't have one, I just enjoy doing this. It's the dark side of the moon, Rachel" Quinn Fabray had so many sides and secrets. Everyone thought they knew her, but they were wrong. So very wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: Okay so hi! This is a long but brief intro to my story. I don't want to give too much away or too many explanations as to who is who or what is what because all of that will added in upcoming chapters. This isn't my best work and yes I am aware I should add a hella good first opening but I've had this sat in my laptop. This is basically a plot I've had for the past two years and I've combined a few elements from the character Belle Blake (Manzoni) from a movie called The Family. It isn't a word for word character, I've simply taken the character and done a completely different backstory (more on here in the chapters). Now, this is a Faberry fanfiction but Rachel won't be in this just yet so please be patient with me, I have a lot of ground work to lay first. It will be a M rated fanfiction also so beware. The name is Skylar and you can catch me on Tumblr btw.**

When Belle was a child her parents made it a regular thing to travel to their beloved family cabin up in the deep forests of Wisconsin. Giovanni rarely had time for his children and though he loved them with everything within him, he aimed to give them normality whenever he could. So for each Summer of the year the family would load up the car and go on a trip. It wasn't anything special or outstanding but each family member loved every moment.

Being a mob family was thrilling and had it's pros but sometimes just being regular was a relief.

At the age of ten Belle was already self aware and able to understand the differences to the mob life and the family life. One side was filled with violence which she and Warren were always shielded away from and one was filled with...well dullness. Belle did long for it though sometimes, that Brady Bunch kind of connection. To be normal and be a normal child, be able to play with friends, have sleepovers and watch cartoons with her baby brother...but that was impossible back in New York. Her mother Maggie always had guests round. Family and friends seated on every chair in the home. The kitchen was never quiet, it was filled with the mobwives all setting down plates, mountains of home cooked food or simple snacks with wines. It was never ever empty but it wasn't with people of her age and that was the downer. Belle didn't have it bad, she loved everyone who came over, even if they were criminals and known ex convicts. They treated her like she was their own daughter, the men protected her and the women comforted her. Still, it didn't stop her from watching the park from her bedroom windows and hearing the other children squealing with laughter while played tag. It didn't stop her longing for it.

So the trips were a gift. Her father would spend the day fishing or hunting for dinner. It didn't matter where they were, her mother demanded for and used fresh produce for her cooking. She'd wave through the dust filled window as she cleaned away the inhabited collected dirt and went about her way cooking up something fierce. You wouldn't think the woman wearing a daisy patterned apron had blood on her hands.

Fishing was more of the son and father activity as Belle didn't have the patience to sit watching the end of a fishing pole whereas Warren was fascinated by the slight ripple of the water so she would lay in the boat and either take photographs with her small kiddie Polaroid, even at that age she was a lover of photography.

The hunting however was Belle's and her fathers activity. A young one when she first started. Seven years old in fact but Giovanna firmly believed that teaching a child at a young age would make them grow to be a professional at anything and he was partially right as Belle had a brilliant aim with the gun and had zero issues when it came to helping with the killing, gutting and cleaning of the catch. She was a natural hunter. It became the tradition, a hobby, a habit and basic daily activity on that special week...but on their summer trip

at the age of ten

Belle didn't kill an animal

It was a moment in which her life and path was created and one she found herself running on.

...

The Fabray's were invited to stay at the cabin. They had the space though Belle had to share the small guest room and bed with her cousin Frannie, Judy and Russell's perfect child, a straight A student, popular, possible future cheerleader and all that cliche bullshit. It was just one of those things that you knew without even seeing it.

Warren slept in his parents bed and the Fabray parents would use the last shared room which Belle used for her quiet time.. She wasn't bothered by this however, in fact she was ecstatic as Frannie had never actually spent time with the Manzoni's clan before. Judy was a regular to her sister's home, Russell when he could of course. Frannie was a rarity and Belle was itching to spend time with the girl. Though when it came to the introductions Belle found herself recoiling as she had no idea on how to approach someone for friendship plus Russell was known to have questionable views on her parents but he had the decency never to air them in her presence, Luckily Frannie didn't share the views of her father and the two girls became inseparable. The first night was spent feasting on marshmallows and basic chit chat. Favorite movies, music and books. Typical nonsense that later becomes irrelevant in later life. Wherever Frannie went, Belle followed and vice versa.

That friendship which looked like a forever bond ended after the third day and everything took a turn. Belle made a decision that not only affected her family but stole her innocence forever.

...

 _"And what happened then sweetheart?"_

Belle could remember the sound of multiple voices coming from all rooms in the house. Her father was speaking in such a lifeless voice that she barely recognized it. He had dealt with these type of circumstances multiple times throughout his life so it startled Belle to see him so...broken. Her mother of course was making the officers feel at home by serving tea, coffee and whatever else she could find. That was another oddity. Belle grew up to never trust cops unless they worked with her father and whenever they came to their home, Maggie never served them. She spat at them, cursed and threw things instead...but here she was, red eyed tear stained cheeks and topping up their cup like some sort of housewife.

Judy and Russell were nowhere to be seen. Most expected kids not to understand the process of dealing with tragedy but she knew the two were off somewhere. Crying. Everyone had cried, even Warren, but Belle came to that conclusion only because the sounds of his family screaming had cleary disturbed him. No one likes seeing their parents cry.

Belle however, she was different.

Sat there with a blanket wrapped around her soaked body and some random teddybear on her lap. It wasn't hers, the officer gave it her like an ice breaker. She was observant and quick to understand when someone wanted to talk about difficult things

.

 _"I know what happened was scary and you probably don't understand much of what's happening but I want you to know that you're not in any trouble. The opposite, we're proud of what you did little miss. You tried to get help and that was a brave thing to do"_

He continued on with a soft voice that caught Belle's attention again. It wasn't fierce or scolding which she expected. It was comforting and it made no sense at all because she didn't need it. The others needed it more and honestly she wanted to go outside and watch the investigation pan out.

"We was jumping and she fell in." Belle answered while she played with the small teddy, it was a small dog and Belle wondered how many children had played with it previously. Had it been washed? How many tears had it collected? How many secrets were whispered in its ear over the years?.

...

"I can't wait till I'm older so I can go to prom. Do you know what prom is Belle?"

The small blonde shook her head and watched as the slightly older girl span round with one of the small oars that was found on the floating dock. The two had decided to sneak away while their fathers argued over who caught the biggest fish and their mother's soaked in the sun. They, without permission. stole the cabins paddling boat and ventured off to the dock that floated in the middle of the lake on the opposite side of the cabin. Out of sight from the family as their mother's would ground them for going out so far.

"It's a day where all girls can be princesses. A boy takes you to this huge dance filled with food and pretty decorations and you dance all night. Then at the end of the night, a girl is crowned Queen with a king."

Belle eyes widened with awe at the thought of being a Queen. She had dreamed of a prince coming to rescue her on a white horse with crisp white clothing and taking her to live in a huge castle on the top of the highest mountain in some magical land.  
"Does that mean I can be a Queen?" She asked excitedly and watched as Frannie removed the daisy chain necklace they had made earlier from her neck and placed it on top of Belle's blonde head. "You're more of a princess but when I'm crowned Queen I'll make sure you're the most loved princess in all the land!"

But Belle didn't want to be a princess, she didn't want to be something worth less then anyone else. Not at all. This is where the ground crumbled in her mind, where the heat boiled in her chest, just one simple and innocent opinion...destroyed everything.

"Why are you frowning sourpuss? The wind will change and you'll get stuck like that and no prince wants to marry a girl with a sourpuss"  
Every word that came out of Frannie's mouth stung, but not in in a hurtful way. It invoked something Belle had never felt in her life. It twisted and turned deep within her chest, numbed her fingers and toes so she clenched them as tight as she could to chase it away.

It wasn't like the time her mother had taken away her copy of Rapunzel because she had punched the boy in her class for pulling her hair. It wasn't like when some stupid girl from across the street pointed and laughed because Belle had accidentally tripped, cutting open her knee. This was something else and when Frannie reached over to brush a simple strand of hair from Belle's eyes, Belle could see everything in Frannie and everything she wanted to be.

The girl had everything Belle dreamed of. She had the large group of friends, the sleepovers, the trips out, shopping days and she was pretty. Very pretty. Nice blonde hair, perfect skin and bright eyes. A Queen. Belle had dark tinted hair with cut skin littered with bruises from constant fights, bruises on her legs from tumbling down after being tackled by some coward. She hated that Frannie had everything and would continue to get everything without a fight.

 **She. Hated. It.**

The moment Frannie stood, stretching her arms over her head. Belle grabbed the small oar, it was heavy but manageable to swing, and she did swing. Hard.  
With a ear splitting squeal she swung the oar with her entire body weight with clenched eyes until a hard object was hit and then a splash sounded.

...

"She wasn't moving so I jumped in and tried to shake her but she wouldn't wake up. I didn't want her sleeping in the water so I swam back to get my daddy. He would of told her off for playing like that. It's silly to play in water like that. My mommy says that water can be dangerous cause it's so quiet." Belle shrugged as she swung the teddy between both hands.

"Did she wake up yet?" She asked in in a deep voice with the teddy in front of her smiling mouth.

...

The police report stated that Frannie Fabray suffered a concussion caused from hitting a rock when she fell into the shallow water. By the time Russell and Giovanni reached her, too much water had entered her lungs and the girl drowned before the paramedics could come to the scene. The funeral was held in the Fabray's hometown Lima with friends and family. Belle standing by her mother's side while they lowered the coffin into the dirt. Her friends had all written letters and dropped them inside, whispering their goodbyes.

"Mommy, why are they saying Q?" She whispered at hearing some mutter the letter.  
"Her middle name was Q, Quinn was Frannie's nickname to her friends sweetie."  
'That's a pretty name.' She thought to herself, over and over again.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the delay but I promise to be more active. Personal life just got a little hectic but I have some structure now. I aim to post every weekend at the latest. Anyway, thank you so much for the people who have reviewed and liked this story! I love it so so much and it motivates me to write more for you guys. Also warnings: Violence, adult language, slight mention of rape and blood. This is a story for mature readers. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

 **Anemixus: Thank you so much for your review! I appreciate your words and I hope you stick with it!  
Guest: Glad you are enjoying it!  
Guest 2: It was an opening chapter, friend. I can't add too much in the first chapter otherwise too much would be included and throw off the timing I have in mind but thank you for the review!  
Guest 3: Frannie Fabray is dead, she was a separate character but trust me, Quinn is very much alive. I promise to explain more in upcoming chapters! Yes, it is fucked up lmao and will only get worse as the story moves so prepare yourself!  
Pratty2005: The Family (Malavita) is a brilliant movie and book. I highly suggest for you to watch because it's great, Dianna is fantastic in it. Plus the story of Belle in it will be vital to this story!  
Guest 4: Thank you! I love you for reviewing!**

"I'm looking at my email right now and I'm telling you it isn't here. Yes, I have the mockups but the final print price isn't here. Well, can you find it for me and message Mr Clinton his bill, please? Thank you." Quinn slammed her phone down as a heavy breath escaped through her nose and through the cracks of her fingers. A roll of the neck and she felt the bones pop beneath and the tight muscles caused from a full night of being bent at the neck loosen with one swift movement. She leant back in her office chair and stared at the rising sun coming through the alleyways across from her buildings and sighed with scrunched eyes.

Her mother told her to never work overtime. 'A tired dog is a weak dog, sweetie. A weak dog is a vulnerable dog'

But running a business, her own business, took dedication. The trash can fill to the top with empty Red Bull cans that almost reached the top with a few Starbucks cups for the finish. She never believed those drinks to work, that or her body was so used to them that the effect was unnoticeable. She debated on sparking a cigarette to rid that nagging irritation of failure from her body, it had been weeks since she had last smoked and as relieving it may be in the moment, that would be another failure to mull over later when she finally dragged her body home.

She needed to go home.

Another huff of air and Quinn stared at the roof as she tapped her nails across her knuckles. Moving her fingers to her wrist and gave the thumping pulse a quick squeeze before moving higher till she reached her chest and picked at the buttons on her blouse.  
"Come on, hurry up." She muttered under her breath.

Waiting was not Quinn's area of expertise. Never in her career had she had to wait for the confirmation on a payment. Her pieces sold like wildfire and buyers were never picky after a print was viewed.

Fabray Photography was a famed studio but within a certain crowd. Her macabre photography appealed to a certain audience in New York and that audience would wait with foaming mouths at the end of each month to purchase whatever creation she came up with next. A naked nun crying on her knees surrounded by shadows of sins she wished to commit or a man picking out pieces of bloody thread from his eyes and tongue in a black room. They sold to some edgy hipster out there. They always sold.

Her recent piece which was a request, Quinn had spent months working with this customers request. Spent nights purposefully avoiding sleep with music blasting so loudly her ears would ring in order to loosen her mind to the point the depravity would seep out into her planner, jotting down mindless ideas with rapid scribbles then eventually call in her models for the shoot. The studio would have to shut for at least two weeks for her mind to recuperate. Her fans won't complain, in fact, they would be eager to see her latest art but sadly, they never will.

Photography was something Quinn always had her eye on during her teenage years, and when people asked what area she would go for. Landscape, nature, weddings...Quinn would nod her head and stick with nature, it seemed the easiest way to avoid explaining what she really wished to do. To do take photographs of what people wanted to avoid in the world. Sins? Pain? Negativity? Nudity? She wanted it all on large canvases and released into the world. In her mind people needed an outlet, whether it was simply something to stare at, some people needed that image on their mind to soothe whatever dark need they had slumbering inside, and she had her own personal sympathy on that.

'Wait, just wait and listen to me, please! Look, I get it, alright?! Just please, s-stop this'

The sun rose slowly and that warm orange glow that came with it filled Quinn's glass wall window's like liquid, washing away the night shadows and the ambience that came with it had the blonde's eyes fluttering to a close. It was rare for her to fall into a natural sleep so easily but as fate had it, the phone sprang to life and her eyes snapped open the same time as her hand snatched to grab it with haste.

"Yeah?" She croaked, grabbing a half empty can of caffeine liquid to rid that dryness.

"Yo, Q. Good news, I have both the final print and the bill, I know Clinton already agreed with the final shot but I thought I'd send him a watermarked image first, just to be sure he's happy with it. Once he's given the thumbs up, I'll go ahead and fax him the final price." Ellie, her assistant spoke with an equally tired voice on the other end of the phone. She had been awake the same amount as Quinn due to her obsessive need to be successful. You could say her and Quinn were sisters with their dedicated mindsets but in reality, they were just friends from Yale.

"Oh, thank you. I didn't even think of watermarking it." Quinn said as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It's what I'm here for, to clean up after your mess." She replied with a loud yawn that infected Quinn to do the same. The sound of typing could be heard and a slurp of a drink. "You know what? After this long ass weekend, I've put in, I deserve a raise for this shit."

"You say that every time we do a long ass weekend, Ellie."

"Doesn't make it any less true. Oh, by the way. Pastor Richards has sent another lengthy and very harsh worded email to you again"

"Let me guess. My work is an abomination, I'm welcoming the Devil into my heart, I'm going to burn in Hell if I don't ask for forgiveness?" Quinn rolled her eyes as she dragged her body from her chair and began collecting her things. Having to take a moment to allow the rush of blood to her brain, sleep was desperately needed.

"The same old song, but he did send a link for a local confessional if you're interested?" The grin on Ellie's face could be seen by the slight laugh in her voice.

"You can send him a polite decline, tell him I don't appreciate his words of wisdom, I can't wait to party in Hell with all the other sinners of the world, blacklist that link and send him one of my preprints of A Nun in Baphomet. I'm sure he will love that if he doesn't burst into flames at the mere sight of it."

"Piss off the Religious community with offensive artwork, the same old. Alright, I will get right onto that once I have Benadryl myself to sleep. Shit, before I forget, your mom called and wants you to call her back to organise the moving van for her."

Quinn let out a loud groan at the reminder. With the divorce finally coming to a completion after years of fighting, Judy had placed her home on the market and was planning on uprooting herself to more sunny climates. She just needed Quinn to help with the heavy lifting of all her IKEA furniture. Apparently, old age was catching up to her thus halting any form of strenuous workout. Quinn found the timing ironic considering just last week Judy called after leaving a 'fantastic' yoga session that made her feel ten years younger.

"I'll call her, later on, tonight. You have a good day and evening, you deserve the day off."

And with that, Quinn cut the conversation and was on her way home. She lived in a small detached home on the outskirts of the city but still buried in the middle of factories and industrial run buildings. It wasn't the Hamptons, it wasn't glamorous nor did she have the Suburban magazine life, it was the opposite of what everyone in high school assumed she would have and Quinn loved it. She loved the smell of machinery waking up in the mornings, the fumes coated the air and gave it a misted grey look in the sky, or purplish rays due to the sun rising. The distant sounds of pipes rattling, steam hissing and a few voices shouting over the cacophony was her ambience. It wasn't relaxing and that's why it relaxed her. She had no neighbours, her house just stood in the middle of upturned rubble and derelict, half demolished factories. It was as if the city council wanted to build some houses in the eighties but had their budget cut mid-production and all they managed to complete was one home. Completely alone, as always and as Quinn loved.

The house she lived in, was a fucking mess. No wallpaper covered the walls and instead the plaster that covered the bricks showed. No carpet, just broken floorboards and some random tiling, she always assumed that whoever lived here before her debated on adding something different to the floor and gave up halfway through. She didn't bother to change it, she didn't bother to change much of anything. Cleaned away the mould that grew in the deep corners, bleached any stains and fixed the windows but the rest just stayed how it was. No one came to visit her because no one knew where Quinn Fabray lived. After graduation, the woman just cut off all communication from Lima, apart from her mother of course. Things just...became too difficult to remain connected. They wouldn't understand her now, they didn't even understand her back then.

"Children, I'm home" She called out after kicking the front door shut. Throwing her jacket carelessly on one of the nails that stuck out of the wall near the entrance and just as the collar was hooked by that rusted nail, multiple bodies of fur slammed her to the ground with a thump, the floorboards staining under the hit. A small copper Basenji by the name of Peanut was all over her with excitement to seeing his mother, and the other, Fax, a large Black German Shepherd who instantly sat back and waited for his mother to stand. Quinn never wanted a pet, blame that on Russell. She found them to be pointless weights to her life, like children. All they did was eat, shit and sleep. Serving no purpose...well, that's what she used to think. The two dogs came in particular use over the year that she had them, it was funny how they came into her life. Quinn didn't go out of her way to own the animals, they were the fallout from a relationship that died. Harmony, the infamous Gerber baby, oddly enough the only one apart from her mother who stayed in her 'new' life for a while. The two met at an art show Quinn was asked to join, something to do with Broadway and the blonde didn't want to go, at all. Unfortunately, her particular tastes for photography were called upon for a specific show and Harmony was the lead in said show. Imagine Quinn's shock when Harmony opened her mouth and a river of words came out without a pause. She can still hear the moment Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel's names were said. She figured out where she knew Harmony from in that moment and flashbacks of high school glee performances came rushing back. Multiple glasses of champagne on trays washed away them memories in seconds and the two started dating a few days later. Maybe the relationship was Quinn subconsciously wanting to keep a grip on the old days, maybe.

Anyway, the dogs. The two pooches were Harmony's and Quinn didn't exactly hit it off straight away. Peanut was a pain in the ass, constantly stealing her shoes and pissing all over her bag whenever she stayed the night. Fax was indifferent towards her, he knew of Quinn and he didn't bother with her. A quick glance and he'd walk away without even a sniff of notice. She would walk them through the busy streets of New York while Harmony was either at work or be practising her lines. Peanut would drag Quinn around, bark at any other dog and shit numerous times just to show the woman where she belonged in his life. Fax just walked and sat while his little sibling would run circles around their part time owner. Then the relationship ended in the way that it did and things shifted for the three. Peanut instantly forgot about Harmony and loved Quinn hugely. Fax the same and Quinn brought them to her home and the cards were set. Fax the protector of the home. Peanut, Quinn's personal guard.

"What have you two been up to?" She asked while walking through the crumbling house and into the kitchen, the two dogs following suit. A small bark from Peanut and Quinn went about grabbing a warm can of Red Bull from the broken fridge and leant herself against the large table that reached nearly both ends of the kitchen. Fax sat by her legs and looked up at his master with tired eyes, she gave him a scratch under his chin and silently thanked him for the work he had done. He was more dedicated to his role of guardian and for that, she was forever proud and thankful. There was no way she could keep up with her hobby without him. He watched what she couldn't while at work, he kept things under control when she wasn't able and the small dried blood she could feel coating the fur under his chin, he caused the pain she wished she could while in the studio.

"You're a good boy, Fax. Go lie down" She didn't speak in that ridiculous baby tone most people did when conversing with an animal, it was beneath her to do that but also disrespectful to do so to two dogs like Fax and Peanut. They weren't wrapped in cotton wool, they didn't have their belly scratched with their name being boo boo'd out. They were treated beautifully but raised and conditioned to have a hard exterior. Quinn praised her animals like she would a human, it built trust that wasn't tainted. Her dogs knew to follow her orders without being brainwashed by treats. They followed her orders because they loved to do so, they loved their jobs and what was asked of them. They wouldn't have it any other way. They ate, worked, shit, then slept when their master came home.

Fax left the room and Quinn heard his claws clacking up the creaking stairs towards her bedroom, Peanut stayed, staring under the table as he wasn't to leave just yet. Quinn followed his wide and shining eyes and grinned as she took a swig of her lukewarm Red Bull.

"and how did you sleep?"

His name was Terry.

Terry worked the night shift at a parking lot for the nearby hospital. A family man with four kids and married to Linda. She didn't work. No, she was lumbered with that housewife routine. Wake up, make food, clean, sleep. A depressing lifestyle with arguments to fill the void of entertainment. It was a city family, not the suburbs one like she used to have. Quinn had watched how Linda would cry alone at the kitchen table after Terry dragged his ass off to bed, no conversation on her day, no hug, not even a kiss goodnight, the asshole didn't even wait for Linda to go to bed. Terry didn't have the excuse of being a tired businessman to explain his loveless attitude. He was just a miserable fucking man who preferred drinking beers and tv dinners while watching football on his days off work. Quinn spent many days in her car watching. She had to do it. In order to gain the full picture and not just snippets of information.

He had a beer gut and a greasy combover that did nothing for his pudgy and oily face. His shirt was stained at the armpits and collar, dark patches of sweat soaking into the cheap fabric. His pants were no better. Quinn could smell the stench of urine the moment she walked into the kitchen and she didn't curse the man for it. It was a regular occurrence and cleaning that type of liquid up was part of the routine now. His wrists had the marks of dried blood and the skin turned horrendously dark purple, obviously, a night spent trying to pull his arms free from their binds instead of sleeping. Again, she couldn't curse him for that. They all did it. No matter what she used, they always tried to pull their arms free. However, this was the first time she had used copper wiring and christ it made a mess. She doubts that Terry would ever feel anything in his hands.

"You know, I just want to apologise for not being here. I never leave a person for this long, ever. Usually, I'm here for this, I'll be in my room or in the garden or something but I never actually leave people alone in the house for a full night. Work, you know how it is..." The woman moved herself to sit by Terry under the table and sighed sadly when Terry tried to move away, whimpering with wide eyes, tears ready to spill over his swollen eyelids. A sheen coated his forehead and Quinn wondered for a moment if that combover was, in fact, a hairpiece. The mixture of urine, sweat and blood were stronger and the blonde had to breathe through her mouth in order to avoid retching.

"I say you know how it is but you don't really, do you? I mean, how many times have you sat on your fat ass and did fuck all? Cause that's what you do. At the hospital. In your little security booth." Quinn took another swig of her drink and stared at the now fully risen sun that shined through the steam stained windows. It sent another wave of relaxation through her body and Quinn suddenly regretted not having a glass of water to quench her thirst. You sit and eat your greasy fucking food, gaining the fat and ignoring the monitors.

"You sit and eat your greasy take-out, gaining the fat to your ass that your miserable wife has to endure during your loveless fuck sessions at night and you ignore the monitors. You ignore your job. To you, that job means nodding like a robot to the multiple doctors and nurses who pull up in their cars, I bet you don't even read their ID's, you just let them in with a push of a button." Quinn scoffed and pinched the bridge of her nose as that all familiar bubbling began to build. That irritating hum you get in your spine that surges through the muscles till you reach out and hit something. "You just let them in like you did that disgusting man who attacked that poor nurse. I read that she forgot her phone and that's why she went back to her car. It's because of you, she can't sleep at night, it's cause of you that she has to live in a skin she can never remove. Her nightmares, her paranoia, her constant feel of disgust is due to your lazy fucking incompetence and for that, you will suffer the same."

During her speech, Quinn had moved to pulling the switchblade she always had on her person into sight. The swish and click had Peanut standing ready, growls rumbling in his chest as Terry began to cry and scream behind the rag stuffed into his mouth. Many ideas ran through her mind on what to do to this man, how she would make him suffer. It didn't really matter, he was going to die here regardless. Yes, people may see this as an overreaction to a man who didn't actually do any harm, commit any crimes but to Quinn...he was on their level. He was the same as the vile, worthless humans who roamed the earth thinking they were free and safe to be how they wanted to be. Terry didn't rape that woman, but his actions were responsible on some level.

"I can't let you live, Terry. For a few obvious reasons that I know you are wanting to know." Quinn licked her lips and set her can down on the floor, letting her eyes roam over the man who had reverted back to an innocent child like posture. His cheeks now coated in tears, more sweat dripped down his face and mixed with the bloody saliva under his double chin. He must have bit the inside of his cheek.

'Tiptoe by the window. By the window, that's where I'll be' It played in her mind like a whisper. Like it always did.

"One I've already explained, the second is I can't let you live you've seen my face, my home and that whole 'I swear I won't tell anyone what you did' line doesn't work with me." Her heart thumped hard with pre-show jitters, fingers twitched around the handle of the blade with anticipation. These adrenaline rushes were better than any other kind.

'Come tiptoe through the tulips with me'

"The last reason is for your wife and kids." Terry's eyes flickered with fear, hope and sadness all in a second. The mention of Linda set off a chain of events in his mind. The day they met, the day he proposed, their wedding, the birth of their children. All those happy memories came flooding in his brain and that hope was drowned out at the realisation he would never see them again. The last memory he would have would be this rotting kitchen, the piss-stained floor, the numbness in his hands. The crazed yet empty hazel eyes of the young blonde woman in front of him.

"You want to see them and be a good father, a respectful husband. It's too late for that now. Your kids wanted you to praise them for their homework, Linda wanted one kiss at night but you threw that away and I know there is someone out there who will treat them as they should be. It's just not you."

She was getting tired, a yawn escaped her mouth. The Red Bull wasn't working anymore. It gave the body a boost but it couldn't fight away the need for a good eight-hour sleep. The blonde beckoned her dog over and he came up to her side, teeth bared and fur spiked as Quinn brought the blade to his throat, pushing his head back so she could press the sleek silver right against his jugular. "If you want to pray, go right ahead. I won't stop you, I know what it's like to place your fear into something non-existant for your own sense of comfort."

And with the quickest snap the blade sliced through the layers of fat and muscle, Terry's life essence pooled out from the thin gash like a river and his legs kicked out in desperate strides. They always did that and Quinn never took it upon herself to find out why. Perhaps it was the brains final attempt to keep it's vessel alive, it was cruel when you thought about it. The brain knew the body was dying yet it tried it's utmost to stay afloat, torturing the body and itself in its last moments. Maybe that's why people say in death, people showed you who they really were Quinn always linked dying bodies to fish out of the water. Limbs flapping, desperate gasps of air and wide eyes.

Terry did just that, with his hands bound above him it made it rather difficult but he managed well, right till his last moment. It dawned on Quinn that sleep wasn't going to be available till she cleaned up the mess.

"I should have slept first. Fuck me."

 **A/N: Now, I don't want to delve much into Quinn's history, her reasons or anything else surrounding her 'hobby' as it will just ruin the pacing I want. It WILL be explained the more chapters we go through. Rachel is due to pop up, trust me she will be active in this story as it is Faberry! so trust me, you will have your pairing. The reason for Harmony being Quinn's ex. Like I said, more will be explained. I'm just giving you guys some basic info to mull over. Anyway, if you have any sort of questions then please go ahead and message me. I am more than happy to answer them.**


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